


House Arrest

by RedfieldandNivans



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), NivanField - Fandom
Genre: B.S.A.A. is expanding operations, Buddy talk, But also not, Chris is still grounded, Chris works too much, Encouraging Leon, Just ignore the Christmas thing, Living together on base, M/M, Part of the DogTags storyline, Piers doesn't work enough, Piers is still recovering after the events of RE6, Post RE6, Restless!Piers, Sexy times interrupted, Unexpected guests, When it's hot out I write Christmas things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4309659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedfieldandNivans/pseuds/RedfieldandNivans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected visit from Leon, Jake and Sherry on Christmas night has a worn down Chris considering something he's never considered before: taking Piers on vacation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House Arrest

**Author's Note:**

> A Nivanfield vacation fic prompt from a Follower.

Chris hadn’t come home yet.

The house was decorated, the mistletoe hung in the door frame, tiny strings of white lights lined the cupboards. Hell, even the dog had his festive red and white collar with bells on as he dug for invisible things in the carpet and paced the main floor in search of something to chew. His bells chimed in addition to the relaxing piano track Piers had put on as background noise.

It seemed fitting to have something mellow and jazzy playing tonight. It suited the mood he’d been in today. The mood he’d been in all week. At least he’d been in that mood since their _guest_ Jake Muller had ( _finally)_ gone back to wherever he came from and gave him and Chris their home and privacy back.

A small tree was up and shining like a multicolored beacon in the front window. It’s glow cast a rainbow of shimmering sparkles across the fresh snow outside. Piers sat alone, leaning over the back of the couch with his chin rested in the folded arms of his sweater, waiting; Looking out at the snow. Letting his eyes water from not blinking for too long, and watching the colors from the tree blur in his vision as he listened to the soothing melody that filled the empty house.

His partner should have been home by now. So where was he? Out with the guys? Not likely. Chris almost always let him know when he was going out. If he was out buying presents – which he had told the ace he did not usually do- he would have called or texted or _something._ Tonight was Christmas eve and he hadn’t done any of those things. As far as Piers knew the plan was to stay in tonight and do nothing. Together.

 _“We’re going to stay inside and just be.”_ Chris had said.

Piers liked that plan. Up until the point where he was left to _just be_ alone. Chris’ shift was scheduled to have ended two hours ago and seeing as they lived on base, the Captain had no reason to be as late as he was.

Unless something had happened.

The aftermath of the bioterrorist attacks this past year was still a fresh wound that the B.S.A.A. had thus far been unable to fully heal. Emergencies were commonplace and things had to be done; Orders given, strategies coordinated and executed, monsters neutralized, lives saved. The show had to go on. Chris was invaluable to the fight even if he was temporarily grounded from active duty like he was. If the B.S.A.A. needed him Piers had no choice but to let them have him.

Even on Christmas eve.

Sir Ruffington III jumped up on the couch; His wet German Sheppard nose surprising his master from his thoughts.

“Good boy.”

Ruff leaned into him almost to the point of falling over as Piers scratched behind his pointed ears. His back leg thudded against the cushions, making the man laugh. Piers grabbed the nearest chew toy from the floor and tossed it down the hall. The big dog scrambled after it with the same enthusiasm as he did when he was a puppy mere months ago.

Ruff bounded back with the toy and Piers pushed the living room table out of the way so he could sit down on the floor with him.

 _“Where’s daddy?”_ he asked. He pulled the toy from the dog’s mouth and hid it behind his back.

Ruff barked.

_“Where is he, Ruffles? Go get him! Tell him to get his ass home where it should be.”_

Ruff barked louder in agreement.

Piers tossed the toy again, this time further down the hall so the dog would take longer to come back with it. He lay back on the floor with a yawn listening to the clacking of doggy nails race across the hardwood.

This was his first Christmas here in the ‘Nivanfield’ house, he realized. Technically it was _Chris’_ house. He was just living in it with him.

That was supposed to change, wasn’t it? They were house hunting together now. Had been for the better part of six months. It was going to be nice owning a place with his partner. It still freaked him out, but the benefits far outweighed any hesitations he had. Now if only Chris were home often enough to enjoy what little time they had left in _this_ house.

Ruff jumped on him without warning. Winded by the sudden weight on his gut, Piers curled up in the fetal position laughing at the unexpected attack.

 _“You can’t do that anymore,”_ he coughed. “You’re not a pup, you’re a _moose_.”

Ruff leapt away and lay down on the hardwood to bark at him playfully from a distance.

An electric tingling began to build beneath the skin of the ex sniper’s right arm and he shook it out. _Stupid arm._ It must have been responding to the adrenaline of being surprised. Even after all this time it still acted up when he didn’t need it to. It was a constant reminder that he was still infected. For all the needles he was stuck with on a regular basis and all the experiments he’d endured to date, the damned C-Virus seemed to be here to stay.

A couple of heavy thuds sounded at the entrance indicating someone was coming. The dog went wild, catapulting up off the floor in favor of leaping at the door. The door opened and a gust of wind blew sprinkles of snow into the warm living room. Chris shut the door behind him and leaned on it, looking guilty behind his scarf. White crystals of frost decorated his hair and eyebrows. It must have been colder out there than it looked.

“Sorry I’m late.” Chris gave the dog a few seconds of attention, enough to calm him down again before he kicked off his boots and tugged the scarf from his neck.

Piers watched him from his place on the floor. “You’re late? I hadn’t noticed,” he lied.

Chris dropped his keys on the counter, removed his coat and knelt on the floor with him, keeping Ruff an arm’s length away to avoid the inevitable onslaught of canine kisses. “Randy’s truck broke down just outside of town and I was in range to give him a boost.”

Piers pushed up into a sitting position. “It work?”

“Yeah. I had him text me when he made it back home. He was more worried about what his other half would say for being late than he was about being stuck out there in no-man’s-land in this weather.” He chuckled.

Piers smiled at that.

Chris seemed to notice his surroundings for the first time since he’d arrived. “You decorated.”

Piers admired his handy work, “You like it?”

“It’s very festive.”

“I know you don’t really _do_ Christma--”

Chris leaned in to kiss his lips before they could say anything more. “It’s looks great in here,” he whispered when they parted.

Piers rested his forehead against his. “I miss you. I know I’ve been saying that a lot lately, and the last thing I want is to sound needy, but I’m going crazy in here alone,” he admitted. He hadn’t meant to say any of that. It just….came out. At least when he was held up at the medical facility for months after Lanshiang there were other people with him; Even if they were on the other side of the glass ninety percent of the time. Somehow over the course of his long recovery the sniper had gotten used to having someone with him more often than not.

“Crazy huh?” Chris sat down fully with his back against the couch and his legs spread and tugged the younger man to him. “We can’t have that.”

“Don’t placate me, please.” Piers let himself be turned around. He leaned back into the bigger man’s embrace.

Ruff whined at the lack of attention and lay down beside his two daddies in temporary defeat, content to tear at the fabric of an unfortunate stray sock he’d discovered under the couch.

Chris hugged Piers tight. The younger man rested back against his chest, his head against the prickles of his five o’clock shadow. The captain’s skin was still cold to the touch. It felt nice against his temple.

“I want you back on your feet as much as you do. You know that.”

“There has to be something more I can do from the sidelines. This house arrest shit is getting old.”

“You’re not under house arrest—“

“I haven’t had an incident in weeks and yet here I am, still sitting here doing dick-all.”

“You’ve done an excellent job of training the Boots, Piers. Not one of them has failed an exercise—“

“It feels like I’m being punished for something--“

_“Piers…”_

“ _No_ , if they really valued what we’ve done – what we’re _still_ _willing to do_ -they’d have us back out there where we can make a difference. Keeping us grounded here is stupid and irresponsible and it’s a waste of resources. We might as well retire.”

“Your status will be reinstated—“

“You don’t know that.”

Chris fell silent, choosing to avoid fanning the flame. He didn’t want to argue. Not tonight.

It was time to drop the subject. Piers could feel himself getting heated up again and Chris probably didn’t need to hear this right now anyway. This was not how they were supposed to spend the evening together.

 _“Sorry,”_ he relented after a minute of silence between them.

Chris rested his chin on Piers’ shoulder and watched their dog a few feet away tearing apart one of his socks. _So that’s why all of my socks have holes in them,_ he realized with a frown. They were going to have to give Ruff a real job soon if they were going to keep the pup from mischief….

“I’m just glad you have tomorrow off.” Piers relaxed into him, thoughts of waking up slow with his partner beside him in the morning gave his frustrations some reprieve.

Chris pressed his lips against the side of his head, but said nothing.

“You _do_ have tomorrow off, don’t you?”

Chris’ silence spoke volumes. Piers pulled away. His partner had a terrible poker face and Piers needed only to look him in the eye for confirmation.

_“Goddamn.”_

“There’s been another incident,” it was obvious from his tone Chris hadn’t wanted to bring it up.

“ _Shit._ Where?”

Chris couldn’t say. But the look on his face told him it was bad; bad enough to make a temporary media blackout necessary. Otherwise he would have heard something about it already.

“Close to home?” Piers pressed.

“It’s always close to home.” Big arms found him again and wrapped him in a protective embrace.

“It’s Christmas for chrissakes.”

You’d think he’d be used to the enemy’s lack of compassion by now, but the audacity of the power-hungry always got under his skin. He was very much like Chris in that regard, which was probably why they were unstoppable together in the field.

 _When_ they were together in the field.

“We should be out there, Chris. Ground Zero, doing damage control.”

“I know.”

“Keeping us here is bullshit.”

“I know.”

Normally Chris admired his partner’s enthusiasm and drive. But right now he just wanted to _be_ with him, not talk about bioterrorism or their current limitations. Piers was right, it was Christmas. Though it certainly didn’t feel like a holiday, they should make the most of it. He was going to have enough to deal with in the morning.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” He looked tired. Like their conversation was wearing him down.

Piers stood up from his place between Chris’ legs and seized his partner’s sock from Ruff’s jaws. “These,” he shook the sock at the dog, “are _not_ yours.”

Ruff’s tail wagged happily at that; there was zero guilt reflected in those wide canine eyes even though the sock he’d commandeered was in shreds. Piers snorted and tossed another toy down the hall for him. Predictably, the Sheppard disappeared after it.

“We need to get him properly trained. When he’s bored he gets into trouble."

“He takes after you.”

Chris took advantage of Piers’ preoccupied state, rising up behind him to press his lips into the soft skin of his partner’s neck and slide a cool hand beneath his sweater at the same time.

Piers tensed at the combination of sensations. Chris affected him in so many ways, it didn’t surprise him anymore when his body did whatever it wanted to within the older man’s grasp. He shivered involuntarily, enticing a small chuckle from the one behind him.

“Someone’s sensitive.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Piers’ rebuttal was stubborn, but his eyes were closed and a smile had spread across his face.

He leaned willingly into the cool palm beneath his clothes as it smoothed over the warm skin of his abdomen and continued downward. Affectionate lips played slowly over the nerves of his neck, and Piers felt Chris pause only to tug at the neckline of his sweater to get at the last few inches he could access.

Humming his approval, Piers felt backward with one hand for the crotch of Chris’ pants. He found the familiar bulge behind the fabric and squeezed it. Chris stopped kissing him when he did so and dropped his head against his partner’s shoulder with a sharp exhale.

“ _Who’s_ sensitive?” Piers teased.

Chris huffed into his lover’s shirt, his entire focus on the hand gripping him through his pants. _“You weren’t supposed to do that…”_

“You know I only play dirty when it comes to you,” he whispered back, feeling for the metal of Chris’ fly zipper.

Ruff barked from his place down the hall suddenly. Long doggy nails scraping at the floorboards as he dashed for the front door.

Not a second later a knock came and Chris groaned when Piers let him go in favor of answering it.

 _“EEEYYYYYYYYY!!”_ An all-to-familiar young male voice shouted into the house as soon as the door opened. Piers blinked in surprise at the collection of unexpected visitors in their doorway.

Three sets of pearly whites greeted the sniper from different heights: Jake, Sherry, and Leon all shouted his name and pushed past him into the warmth of their friend’s house.

Chris adjusted himself through his jeans with a wince before moving to retrieve the now wildly barking German Sheppard from their visitors’ legs. He bent to snag the excited pup by the collar just as Sherry collected him up in an unexpectedly spirited hug.

 _“Merry Christmas, Chris!”_ She chimed in his ear, squeezing her friend’s older brother about the neck like he was family.

Chris hugged her back awkwardly with one arm while Ruff flailed in his grip, “Merry Christmas, kiddo.”

Piers closed the door once the group shuffled inside, leaving a trail of snow and enthusiasm in their wake. Their drop-in was completely unplanned; it pushed his plans to bed his partner to the sideline for now, but not surprisingly the impromptu visit brought his spirits up.

When Sherry let Chris go, Leon swooped in to pull him into a headlock before his buddy could straighten up. _“How’s it hang’n, asshole?!”_ he scrubbed rough knuckles into Chris’ short hair until the bigger man swooped his legs out from under him in retaliation lifting him clear off the ground. Giving up on the dog completely, Chris tossed the fully-grown man over his shoulder onto the couch.

Instead of falling onto the cushions like he was supposed to, the agent clung to Chris’ shirt, pulling his friend down with him over the back of the couch. Both men wrestled to the floor rolling over each other and pushing furniture around with the force of their roughhousing. Sherry tried her best to calm Ruff as he bounced and barked anxiously.

Jake slammed down two cases of beer on the counter before shrugging off his coat and kicking off his boots. One such boot hit Piers in the knee. Piers, who had been watching Chris and Leon play fight winced and shot the ex-merc an incredulous look.

Jake patted the cases on the counter proudly. “Brought dinner,” he grinned.

Didn’t they just get rid of this guy a couple of days ago?

Piers peeled off a now wet sock and whipped it at him. “Who invited _you_?” he snorted.

Jake slapped the wet projectile away and smirked, “Your _mom_ did.”

“Where do I put your presents?” Sherry interrupted once the fighting in the other room quieted down.

Chris and Leon were laughing breathlessly on the floor now. It had Piers smiling despite himself. It was good to see Chris relaxed and just being himself. Leon brought that out in him more naturally than he had these past few weeks. It had him considering if he was really helping his partner lately or if his own restless bitterness had been taking a toll on him too.

“Piers?”

Sherry was looking at him expectantly and he blinked at her, “Oh. Uh, you can just leave them on the counter for now, I guess...”

“Don’t you have a tree?” Even as she asked, the small blond scanned the festively decorated rooms for one.

“We do. But it’s kind of…small.” Piers gestured to the modestly-sized tree in the living room window.

“Geezus, Nivans, how many presents do you think we bought for you guys?” Jake snorted, opening the fridge to displace their condiments with beer bottles in the door shelves. Apparently he was planning to stay a while.

Sherry excused herself from the boys in the kitchen and stepped over the two grown men sprawled out on the floor to get at the brightly glowing tree. Piers watched her pull out two tiny presents from her pockets and tuck them beneath it proudly.

Chris pushed up off the floor with a groan and helped Leon to his feet. The pair made for the hallway. To talk about work privately, no doubt.

Jake offered them each a beer before they disappeared down the hall.

“How’s he doing?” The blond asked once they were alone. He picked up one of his friend’s notebooks.

Chris leaned back against his desk, looking thoughtful.

“He’s restless.”

“Can’t blame him. Must feel like house arrest.”

“Funny. That’s exactly what he said.”

Leon chuckled and thumbed through the hastily scribbled notes. Chris noticed his nosy friend doing so and tugged the notebook from his hands. Leon relented it. He’d forgotten how closely guarded his old friend had become over the years. Given what they did for a living it was understandable. To an extent. Still it was good to know Chris still wrote his thoughts on paper. It was a healthy habit for someone who’d been through hell and back.

“You can always take some time off. Take a vacation from all this, you know? Spend some time alone with the kid.”

“I can’t take a vacation—“ Chris shook his head, rubbing a hand in his hair.

“I know you’re unfamiliar with that concept—“

“--there’s too much happening right now—“

“—but it wouldn’t kill you to take some personal time—“

“—and as much as I’d love to get Piers the hell out of here—“

“—it would do you both a world of good.” Leon insisted, ignoring Chris' excuses. For that's what they were.

“--I’m needed here. With what’s going on in the organization right now and after this latest incident…” Chris went on.

The Captain could really dig his heels in when he wanted to.

Leon leaned in on him, supporting his beer arm on his friend's broad shoulder.

“Chris, I am all for working overtime, you know that. I _get it_ when your work becomes your life. I do. But there is _always_ going to be some new crisis or natural disaster or another terrorist attack.”

Chris finally looked at him. That was a good sign. Maybe the big guy would actually listen to him for once.

“The world is an unrecoverable broken mess and here’s Chris Redfield: just one man trying to hold it all together.”

Chris chuckled at that. “And here I thought we were two.”

Leon smiled and took a swig from his bottle.

“When does _your_ vacation start?” Chris asked, turning the tables on him.

Leon sighed, looking to the bottle in his hand like it had the answer. “My situation’s a little different. No more important than yours, but I don’t have someone at home who needs me right now.”

Chris was silent.

“You know as well as I do how rare it is to be able to do what we do and spend time with the ones we love.”

There was a hint of regret in the way Leon said that.

The word 'love' had Chris pausing the beer at his lips in surprise. There was no way Leon had found out how close he and Piers had become in the last few months. No way.

Leon could sense he'd hit on a secret truth. Did the Nivanfield pair honestly think they were being subtle shacked up together in this small house?

“You’ve got a good thing here, Chris.”

Chris looked at the floor. “Yeah.”

“Take the damned vacation. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

A gentle knocking at the door drew their attention to the small blond form smiling at them from the doorway.

“Hey boys, am I interrupting?” Sherry beamed.

Leon straightened up and ushered her into the office. “Not at all. Chris and I were just talking about you.” he lied with a wink meant for the other man.

Chris cleared his throat and downed another mouthful of his drink.

“All _good_ things I hope!” She giggled and clinked her own drink against Leon’s.

“We still can’t believe you chose to be an agent.”

“Well I tried my hand at waitressing but it just wasn’t exciting enough.” She joked good-naturedly. “They wouldn’t let me carry a gun around or rescue handsome strangers.” As if to make a point she nodded to the other room.

From down the hall they could hear Jake and Piers arguing about something. A beer cap flew down the hall and clinked against the wall at the end, followed by Jake’s shrill laughter and Ruff's excited barking.

Chris and Leon exchanged glances. Piers had his hands full out there by the sounds of it. Best not to leave him alone too long with the one guy who could get on his last nerve...

“Quite a catch you’ve got there.” Chris smiled at Sherry.

“Sorry about him,” she winced. “He was dropped on his head as a child.”

Leon choked on his beer. Chris elbowed him in the ribs, quelling any smartass comments before they made it out of him.

“So how about that vacation?” he asked again instead.

Chris sighed.

Sherry blinked. “You’re going on vacation?”

“No—“

“Yes he is. He’s taking Piers away for a week.” Leon pulled his beer away from his lips to add, “At _least_ a week.”

Chris glared at him but said nothing. Unfortunately for him Leon was used to that look. That look may have intimidated the men under his command, but Leon Kennedy had Redfield immunity thanks to his years of friendship with Claire.

“Oh that’s going to be so good for you guys!” Sherry agreed. "You need to go somewhere warm and far away from work if you're going to really enjoy yourselves."

Her excited approval drew a wide grin from the agent, who happily downed the last of his beer. He pointed a finger at his friend. “The lady has a point.”

Chris slapped that finger away and rubbed at his temples. This teaming up thing was getting old already. “Alright we’ll go,” he caved. “But you’re fronting the bill.”

Though it didn’t seem possible, Leon’s smile widened further still.

“Atta boy.”


End file.
